


are u ready to rumble?

by jackgyeoms



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 09:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11620935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackgyeoms/pseuds/jackgyeoms
Summary: Hugo shows Damien his wrestling room.





	are u ready to rumble?

**Author's Note:**

> requested by anon on tumblr.
> 
> unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

 

“So, when are you going to tell him?”

Fionn’s question made Damien pause just beyond the doorway. He said it so slyly, full of weight and mirth and heavy with meaning that Damien immediately feels a pang of panic in the centre of his chest.

He’d only stepped outside of the sitting room for a moment, to grab some fresh cups of tea. It had become a thing now, weekly afternoon tea in his sitting room. Sometimes it was just him and Hugo; other times Fionn would join or Robert or Mary. It was usually a quiet affair in any case, but the company in his home always made the place feel less empty. He loved the grandeur of his home, the high ceilings and aged architecture but he had to admit that when Lucien was at school, things were far too quiet.

With this feeling in his stomach, maybe he was starting to wish it had stayed quiet.

Hugo was quick to hush him. “I…I haven’t decided yet.”

_Was it about him?_  Damien wondered.

Fionn huffed. “Dude, you need to tell him.”

“No, I don’t,” Hugo retorted.

Fionn wasn’t to be persuaded into silence. “It’s a part of who you are.”

“Stop-”

“Damien would understand.”

Damien’s fingers tightened around the tea tray. Definitely about him then. Hugo adamant reluctance on this, whatever it was, hit far too close to him. They were still new; their relationship was still something to be defined – months of uncertainty and a fear of emotional vulnerability had them dancing around each other until finally, one cheese board and a tad too much wine and words had split from loosened lips.

That was 124 days ago. (Not that Damien was counting).

And those had been good. He thought they were good.

Apparently not.

“It’s not about understanding, it’s-” Hugo stopped short, inhaled sharply before continuing, “I’ve kept it to myself for so long. You’re the first person I’ve shared it with.”

Another low blow, right in his gut. Hugo felt he could share with Fionn more than he could share with his boyfriend.

“And the second person should be Damien.” A long pause and, “Hey, dude, seriously. Just tell him. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

There was a silence, and Damien gathered himself close. He plastered a mask of pleasantries and clattered the tea tray. So, what if some of the tea splashed over the rim of the cup? Who cares about spilled tea when your boyfriend didn’t trust you with his secrets?

The afternoon continued but the thoughts of what exactly he had done wrong couldn’t stop plaguing Damien’s mind. He watched Hugo whenever he could, took in his soft visage and sweet smile, remembered the kisses they had shared that morning and the way that Hugo had held him and tried not to let what he was feeling show.

Maybe it worked. Fionn clapped him on the back when he left and Hugo entangled his fingers in the back of Damien’s hair when he kissed him.

“I have papers to grade,” Hugo murmured into his skin. His fingers burnt a trail on the back of Damien’s neck and brought goosebumps to the surface. “Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?”

Damien didn’t trust himself to speak. He simply nodded and drew Hugo back, the slide of lips wet and slow, the kind that made Damien’s toes curl.

When Hugo left, his lips were swollen and his eyes blown and his shirt untucked. “Tomorrow,” his voice was thick with promise.

Damien held himself. “Tomorrow.”

And then the door shut, and the thoughts the kisses had chased away were back in full force. Hugo didn’t trust him.

Damien scrubbed a hand down his face. He was being stupid, he knew he was, but the feeling was there and it could not be ignored. It stayed with him, like lead in his stomach, and made it hard to sleep when night finally fell.

-

Dinner was great. Hugo was a gentleman, pulled out chairs and held his hand over the table and recited poetry. He enjoyed it anyways, flexing his literary knowledge but with Damien, the way he became flustered with every suggestive line was a source of endless amusement.

“You look so cute when you blush,” Hugo teased and stroked his thumb along the back of Damien’s hand affectionately.

He did that a lot and honestly, Damien liked the contact. He would slide his foot between Hugo’s just to feel the press of his shoes against. He would sit too close in the back of the cab so that their thighs pressed together. He played with the end of his collar when he pulled Hugo in for a kiss.

He did that very thing on Hugo’s doorstep, started on his collar, slipping to his lapels and then drifting under to the expanse of his back stretched under his shirt. Hugo sighed into their press of lips, fingers flexing against Damien’s hips.

“I enjoyed tonight,” Damien whispered. “I enjoyed spending time with you.”

Neither of them would ever ask if the other wants to spend the night. They never would, not whilst their children were home. Sometimes were more important. So, when Damien pulled away, he was fully prepared for this to be the end of the evening.

The insecurities of the day before didn’t feel so strong and if nothing else, he felt determined that he would be worthy. He’d prove himself to be worthy of knowing Hugo’s secret, whatever it may be.

One strategy he had debated was seducing him with kisses but he genuinely didn’t think it would work until Hugo’s voice called back out to him as he made to cross the street back home.

Hugo stood in his doorway, his uncertain expression clear in the porch lights. His shoulders were hunched forward and he twiddled his thumbs through nerves.

“Do you…” he stammered, before straightening his back to stand up taller. His eyebrows furrowed with determination. “I have something to show you.”

“Okay…” Damien replied and took small steps back.

Hugo opened his home and gestured him inside. As Damien stepped over the threshold, he couldn’t help thinking there was no going back. He shuffled further into the hall and Hugo shut the door behind them. Damien hadn’t gotten very far so Hugo was right behind him.

“We have to be quiet,” Hugo murmured, his hot breath brushing Damien’s cheek, “Ernest is asleep upstairs.”

Maybe or maybe not. They both knew that the boy had a tendency to sneak out in the middle of the night, although things had been different since Princess Cordelia had come into his life. The dog herself wasn’t supposed to sleep in Ernest’s room but since she was not in her usual haunt – right at the top of the stairs so that it was hard to walk – chances are that’s where she had been smuggled to.

Hugo led him up the stairs and down the hall. Damien was careful to avoid the creaky step just outside the bathroom door. When Hugo came to a stop, it was outside a closed door. Damien had seen it before, but he’d never considered it any more than a spare room. He glanced at Hugo from the corner of his eye and waited.

Hugo seemed to hesitate, reaching for the handle and pulling away before he reached out to actually wrap his hands around the knob.

“Just…” he started and then stopped as if he had no idea what he wanted the sentence to be. He looked lost, a little panicked, a lot worried. Damien offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile. Hugo let out a long exhale and then pressed down until the door swung open.

The room was dark, only the hallway light behind them even trying to cast any kind of illumination into the room. Hugo took a step in and then glanced backward, jerked his hand to usher Damien forward and he obeyed.

The door clicked shut behind them, dosing them into darkness.

Damien’s breath caught in his throat. “Hugo…” he tried to keep his voice steady.

Some fumbling and a hand gripped his wrist, slipped downwards and intertwined their fingers. He squeezed and gave Damien strength.

And then the lights switched on.

No more shadows of monsters or beasties of the night. They were replaced with glass cabinets and stands with glinting metal and posters carefully stuck to every free space on the wall.

It took a moment before Damien could take them in properly and figure out what was happening.

The glass cabinets held costumes, perfectly preserved. The glinting metal was medals and comically huge belts. The posters were covered with bold writing and people in spandex.

Wrestlers.

Damien blinked once. Twice. He turned to look at Hugo, who was pointedly not looking at him.

“This is…yours?” Damien started.

Hugo cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yes.”

“So, you like wrestling?”

“Quite a bit.”

Damien felt his lips twitch upwards, already curling into a smile. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

Hugo’s shoulders visibly hunched into himself, like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. “It’s embarrassing,” he mumbled, “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Damien couldn’t help himself – he laughed. It came from his belly, forced its way up his throat and out his mouth in a sound that could almost be described as hysterical. The more he laughed, the more he couldn’t stop himself.

Hugo was frowning at him, hurt reflected in his eyes and even through his snorts, Damien had to reach out and kiss it away.

“Think less of you? How ridiculous,” Damien stated, “How could I ever think less of you?”

Hugo’s eyes widened slightly and his mouth dropped open. Damien took it upon himself to tug Hugo’s bottom lip between his teeth and suck on it. It made Hugo’s eyes fluttered, a breathy moan escape into the space between them and, most importantly, the tension relax from his shoulders. Damien touched them with his free hand – because he wasn’t willing to release Hugo’s other hand – and stroked along the shoulder seam of his shirt.

“Do you think less of me because of my love of the Victorian era?” Damien questioned.

Hugo was quick to deny this, shaking his head quickly and firmly insisting, “I would never.”

The honesty made Damien’s heart flutter and his smile widen to the point where his cheeks were hurting. Not that he cared. “Then believe me when I say, your passion – whatever that passion is for – makes you beautiful to me.”

Hugo went pink, the tips of his ears brightening and his cheeks burning.

“You look cute when you blush,” Damien teased and then laughed when Hugo pulled him close to kiss him again.

“I suppose Fionn was right,” he murmured.

Damien shook his head and his hair bounced. “Let’s not tell him. He’ll be impossible to live with.”

“Deal,” Hugo sealed the promise with a kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [drop me a fic request on tumblr!](http://ussfranklin.co.vu/ask)


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